


A Special Gift (or, The Pride of the Farmers' Sons)

by Impracticaldemon



Category: Hakuouki, reimeiroku
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Post Reimeiroku, Pre Shinsengumi Kitan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 12:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13146474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impracticaldemon/pseuds/Impracticaldemon
Summary: Gift fic for @ akiko-natsukoSaitou and Yamazaki are sent to Kondou-san's original village to retrieve a very special New Year's gift from his jealous older brothers.A bit of adventure, a bit of family and class politics, and a lot of Saitou, Yamazaki and Hijikata.  Also, Saitou in his quasi-ninja days for the Shinsengumi (remember his comment to Yamazaki:  "I've done your job").





	A Special Gift (or, The Pride of the Farmers' Sons)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



 

**Author's Note: Written as my Hakuouki Holiday Gift Exchange Fic for akiko-natsuko (tumblr)**

This fic is mainly based on the prompts

1) Saitou! [I solidly support this choice]

2) Yamazaki [again, excellent choice]

and just a smidge of

4) Hurt/ Comfort /Angst [this story came out as somewhat reflective with hints of action]

Overall, this is a slightly oddball, mostly serious story about one of my own very favourite brotps, Saitou / Yamazaki (with more than a little Hijikata thrown in, because I enjoy writing about these three guys).

This story is intended to be set more or less within canon, and takes place in late autumn, shortly after the assassination of Serizawa Kamo at the end of October. It's AU to the extent that I doubt that Saitou and Yamazaki could have been absent from Kyoto for the length of time required by a trip to a "suburb" of Edo and back (Kondou and Hijikata's original village of Hino is now a suburb of modern Tokyo).

I apologize for some slight inconsistencies in when I use English titles (e.g., Vice Commander) and when I use honorifics (e.g., kumicho). Please bear with me.

I hope you enjoy the story! There's much that is serious, and much that is contemplative, and just enough that is unusual to hopefully be interesting. I cannot help the occasional touches of humour!

I hope that the winter season is a good one!

~  _ImpracticalOni_

* * *

 

**A Special Gift, or The Pride of the Farmer's Sons**

* * *

 

They rarely used, or needed, words. In fact, Saitō had trained Yamazaki and had been an unofficial  _shinobi_  (or spy, or assassin—the semantics were irrelevant to Saitō) for the Shinsengumi both before and after the other man had joined. Despite being eager to prove himself as a warrior, Yamazaki had given up the limelight and glory of the  _bushi_  without protest once Colonel Sannan and Vice Commander Hijikata had selected him to be an Inspector—a man who spied on his comrades as well as his enemies. If he ever guessed that his impassive, silent-footed sword-master had recommended him for the position in the first place, it had never been discussed.

An almost invisible nod and a quick hand signal told Saitō that there were at least two men in the large house that they sought to infiltrate. They had already had to scale a wall trapped with hidden, wickedly sharpened stakes and topped with shards of stone, and had narrowly avoided being found out by a well-muscled watch dog—an unusual luxury in food-poor Japan these days. The whole set-up was bizarre, since this was a farmhouse, not a samurai's manor house. Fortunately, they had been warned ahead of time.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the elder Miyagawa brothers  **[1]**  still harbour a strong grudge against Kondō-san," Hijikata had told them, face unreadable in the dim light of the brazier. It was late fall, and the weather had grown noticeably colder over just the past week. Winter was a tougher proposition in Kyoto than in Edo.

Saitō had simply nodded and waited for whatever other information his commanding officer deemed important. Yamazaki had suppressed his natural questions—it was a  _very_  strange assignment—and striven to emulate Saitō's apparently unshakeable calm. He respected Saitō-san a great deal, and it was clear that the Third Division Captain was absolutely loyal to Hijikata-fukuchō, whom Yamazaki admired to the point of hero worship.

"Don't underestimate the bastards," Hijikata had continued, the usual crease between his high-flying black eyebrows becoming more pronounced. "They really hated that their bookish, day-dreaming younger brother managed to get himself adopted into a higher-status family and subsequently inherited both the master's family name and his dōjō."

Yamazaki had been unable to restrain his surprise. Kondō Isami-kyokuchō's ability as a warrior was well-known. If nothing else, the tremendous skill of the men who followed him was a testimony to more than charisma—Yamazaki couldn't imagine that charm alone would have been sufficient to attract the likes of Hijikata Toshizō, Okita Sōji, Saitō Hajime, Nagakura Shinpachi and others. Colonel Sannan was a well-educated, well-trained man from a samurai family, yet he had become a member of Kondō-san's small dojo and then followed the man to Kyoto. Mind you, the friendship between Commander Kondō and the Vice Commander was obviously something special, as was the Commander's deep bond with the First Division Captain. It was a pity that Okita-kumichō was always so disrespectful to the Vice Commander.

"Yamazaki?"

"Ah…  _Sumimasen deshita_ , Vice Commander." The shinobi-medic had flushed a little, and could only hope that the gloom had concealed most of his face. He had worked hard to achieve the proper expressionless countenance of a true samurai. "I had never heard or imagined that there was trouble between the Commander and his family."

"Small town, small minds," Hijikata muttered tersely. He continued, in a more normal tone, "And it was really just the older brothers. I mean, farmers work hard and they're supposed to know their place. Ambition and a good imagination aren't really welcome. They didn't take his  _playing around_  with a katana seriously, and they objected to the way he spent so much time reading instead of doing chores like a proper farmer's son." Normal had given way to perceptible bitterness. Hijikata had also been the youngest son of a moderately prosperous farming family.

"I understand, Vice Commander." Yamazaki, who had been born the son of a practitioner of traditional Eastern medicine, did indeed understand better than many. He knew that a large part of his devotion to the Commander and Vice Commander was that they had given him the longed-for opportunity to become a warrior, despite not being born into the samurai class.

"Well, then…" Hijikata had paused, and then sighed. "Seriously, I know this side-trip is a little unusual, but this will be our first New Year's celebration with Kondō-san in sole command of the Mibu Roshigumi. I want to make it special for him."

Yamazaki, who was observant both by nature and training, had noticed what seemed to be a fleeting smile on the Vice Commander's face, but he hadn't been certain. Had there also been the slightest pause before the word 'special'? In his peripheral vision, he had glimpsed a small shift in his companion's otherwise motionless  _seiza_.

"We will leave immediately, Vice Commander." Saitō had bowed and risen on the words, picking up his katana from the floor. He always seemed to know when Hijikata-san was done briefing them, and managed to be efficient without being impolite. (He also got along well with Okita-san, which still puzzled Yamazaki, although he attributed much of that to the fact that they needed each other as opponents as well as comrades.)

"Thank you Saitō; Yamazaki. Make the best time you can. This is only feasible because of other urgent business in Edo, after all."

" _Hai_."

" _Oyasumimasen."_ **[2]**

Yamazaki was working quietly on the shutter of an upper floor window. Saitō crouched nearby, keeping watch. Confident in his companion's ability to silently pry open barred shutters while hanging upside-down from an overly-ornamented roof-edge in the middle of the night, the senior officer of the pair was content to scan the courtyard and laneway below. He didn't so much as twitch when Yamazaki crept up beside him and indicated that they now had a way in. The roof had been trapped—this time with a variety of spikes and even hunting traps—but the intruders were no longer surprised by such extreme measures. On the way across the roof to the window, they had also had to avoid two nearly-invisible strings of scrap metal and ceramic shards, but those had merited no more than an exchanged glance to confirm that the other man had noted of the alarm system.

Saitō had been the first into the room, as previously arranged. Yamazaki still found it odd to see the captain's katana secured to his back, rather than on his hip, but night-work of this kind required free hands and as few encumbrances as possible around the waist and hips. It was difficult to swing down through a window or other access point with five feet of blade and hilt just waiting to get tangled in your legs or jammed in the opening. Yamazaki hadn't even considered suggesting that Saitō leave his longsword behind, although he himself usually opted for no more than a  _wakizashi_  and a handful of throwing spikes and four-pointed  _shuriken_.

They ran into a problem when they reached the lower floor and cautiously observed the most likely passageway to take them to the below-ground store-room that was their goal. A weathered, muscular man somewhere between thirty and fifty was sleeping in a comfortable-looking alcove just off the corridor. The corridor beyond the alcove was set with more of the home-made alarms.

Even Saitō registered a moment of surprise. What was the purpose of building this rather ostentatious house, if at least one of the owners chose to sleep in an alcove instead of a private room? The man's resemblance to Kondō-san was marked, and after a moment's cogitation, the black-clad intruders  **[3]**  held a rapid—and silent—conference. Their orders had been clear on this point, if nothing else: no killing, no weapons, no lasting harm of any kind except in case of mortal jeopardy.

"And if I decide that you weren't in mortal jeopardy, then you will be," Hijikata had told them. "They're farmers. If either of you needs a weapon to deal with them, then you need to reconsider your career choices."

Neither Saitō nor Yamazaki had said a word in response, and the Vice Commander had looked almost embarrassed—almost. Then he'd cleared his throat and added: "Anyway, whatever happens, don't get hurt, or worse, identified." Another pause and then a grudging, but sincere, " _Tch…_ just don't get hurt, okay?"

Saitō covered the distance to the sleeping man in single, silent rush, and had a cloth and gag in the slightly open mouth before his victim could so much as twitch. Yamazaki immediately tied the man into his futon, securing his arms to his sides and immobilizing his legs. To his credit, the man displayed rage at the mishandling, rather than fear—Yamazaki was rather impressed—but after making sure that he was breathing moderately well despite the gag, Saitō slipped out of the room to reconnoitre further down the passageway. Near-amber eyes—very much like the Commander's—tried to burn holes in Yamazaki's skull, but he had already taken up a defensive position several feet away. When he thought of the prize that Saitō was now hurrying to find, he almost shook his head in disbelief. Since that was not proper behaviour for a shinobi-medic-warrior of the Roshigumi, he contented himself with a frown.

It wasn't until they'd reached their room and changed out of the dark, close-fitting clothes that suggested—well, announced, really—that they'd been up to shady things that Yamazaki finally asked the question that had been plaguing him since the beginning. He looked over at Saitō-san, who gave him a barely perceptible smile. His white sash stood out clearly in the dark room, and he was adjusting his scarf. Yamazaki recognized the almost-smile as permission to ask questions.

"The Vice Commander asked us to raid the Miyagawa farm for the purpose of obtaining this… special gift? Which is two bottles of Miyagawa-made  _sake_? I apologize if I seem to pry, Saitō-san, but do you know why this  _sake_  is special? I have not heard of it before now."

Saitō considered the question—the final one—and then sat down across from Yamazaki. As always, he sat in  _seiza_ , but they knew each other well enough now for Yamazaki to be aware that Saitō did not care if Yamazaki sat more informally under circumstances like these, or when off-duty.

"Kondō-san does not care for  _sake_ ," Saitō stated gravely. This was a common and socially acceptable way to say that a respected senior officer or high-ranking individual did not have a good head for alcohol. Yamazaki nodded; he was aware that the Commander rarely drank. "The last time that Kondō-san was pressed to take part in a drinking party, he explained that he has never found any  _sake_  that was as much to his taste as that made by his older brothers. Unfortunately, as they do not see eye-to-eye on certain important matters, he is no longer able to obtain his preferred  _sake_. Rather than settle for inferior alcohol, he prefers not to drink at all."

Yamazaki contemplated this in silence for some time. As usual, Saitō-san did not rush him, or appear to be impatient.

"So… Hijikata-fukuchō did truly want to obtain a gift that would be special to the Commander." Yamazaki hesitated, but since he had—most unusually—asked such a direct question in the first place, he felt that the least he could do was to try to follow the path that Saitō-san seemed to be marking out for him. "However, it may be that—strictly as a jest between two men who have known each for a long time—Hijikata-fukuchō also means this gift as a way to, ah, convince Kondō-kukuchō to drink with him and the others on the occasion of the New Year."

"It might be difficult for the Commander to refuse to drink, under the circumstances," Saitō agreed. He noted a trace of concern in Yamazaki's clear, violet eyes. Yamazaki didn't want to see Hijikata-san as the kind of man who would risk his reputation and the well-being of his officers for the sake of a joke.

As though he could not suppress the thought any further, Yamazaki murmured, "That does not seem like something that the Vice Commander would do." Then he added, a little reluctantly, "Well, he might—since he and the Commander know each other so well—but only if there were another, more important objective."

Saitō's smile was more noticeable this time, although just as brief.

"I believe you are correct. The Commander and the Vice Commander were having a discussion that I could not help but overhear, just a few months ago. It seems that during the final rupture with his brothers, the Commander demanded to know what it would take to convince them that he was both the boy with whom they had grown up, and Kondō Isami-sensei, the master of a dōjō, and a man who would one day be a warrior of great renown.."

"...I think I see." Yamazaki turned it over in his mind a few more times. Yes, he understood it better now. "Whatever it was that they demanded of the Commander—to prove that he accepted his past while also confirming his elevation in rank—had to do with the  _sake_. Those bottles were marked, which is unusual for home-made alcohol." Saitō's face gave nothing away this time, yet Yamazaki somehow knew that he was pleased. "Also, on top of forcing the Commander to meet their demands—which is something that no true samurai would ever tolerate from mere peasants—they were trying to shame him into taking something— _sake_ —that could be viewed as as an embarrassment to him.. ...Because the Commander doesn't drink much, I means. I think... perhaps they were trying to make up for feeling inferior."

Yamazaki became more and more thoughtful, and Saitō's silence only served to encourage him to continue. "By refusing to take the  _sake_  by force—or to punish them for their insolence—the Commander proved himself not to be a true samurai. At least that's how they saw it, and it salved their pride. …They would not be alone in such views."

The name  _Serizawa Kamo_  hung in the air between Yamazaki and Saitō for a very long moment. He had been the real first Commander of the Roshigumi, even though Kondou-san had been theoretically his equal in rank. Serizawa-san had often ridiculed Kondō-san's origins, and had implied—or said—that to be the true samurai he wished to be, Kondō-san needed to be willing to enforce his exalted, virtually untouchable social status—at sword point by preference. As an Inspector, though not a member of the Roshigumi's 'inner circle', Yamazaki knew virtually all of the circumstances of Serizawa-san's assassination, which had been carried out by Hijikata-san and his most trustworthy adherents.

"The Vice Commander wished to remove a possible cloud hanging over the Commander's honour, without forcing the Commander to order a strike against his own family. Moreover, he had somehow found out that the Miyagawa brothers had become completely irrational in their fear that Kondō-san would eventually return and force them to submit."

"I have always found it interesting that two men as skilled and worthy of respect as Kondō-kukuchō and Hijikata-fukuchō came from the same small farming area just outside of Edo, murmured Saitō.

Yamazaki was embarrassed that he had forgotten that fact. The point was that Hijikata-fukuchō had grown up in the same area, and would have known, or known of most of the principals in the curious tale. In fact, it was not impossible that he'd had his own run-ins with the older Miyagawa brothers. Demonstrating the long reach of the Roshigumi—and therefore of Kondo-san—and shaming those brothers in some way, could have been the Vice Commander's main goals all along.

"So the Vice Commander likely strove to accomplish several things at once," Yamazaki remarked, with some pride in his superior. "First, he outwitted Kondo-kukucho's elder brothers, and now they will have to concede that our Commander is indeed a great man who has moved beyond them. Second, the manner of our strike will be embarrassing to them: they may tell many people the tale of two masked men—two shinobi—who broke into their fortified home in the dead of night, but took only two bottles of  _sake_. Most people will say that the brother we incapacitated made up the tale in order not have to account for the missing  _sake_ , which he drank himself of course. As a kind of a bonus, the Vice Commander will be able to have his jest when he asks Kondō-san to drink a toast with his newly obtained, _special_   _sake_."

In the darkness, deep blue eyes met inquiring purple.

"It is possible that the Commander's brothers may not choose to tell the story at all," Saito pointed out, almost apologetically. "Therefore, I believe that as part of our duties, we should mention the tale ourselves to one or two local gossips, and let it go on from there. We will say only that we heard if from a person who heard it from one of the brothers.”

" _Hai_."

* * *

 

"Happy New Year!" Hijikata leaned toward Kondō. "I have a special gift for you this year, Kondō-san: I thought you might enjoy this particular  _sake_."

"Oh, well, you know me," his victim said with a triumphant smile. "If I can't have the stuff from home, I just don't bother, these days."

"Most understandable, but you are in luck! Look at this." With that Hijikata brought out Miyagawa-made  _sake_  for Kondō-san.

"Now you can finally drink properly to all of this year's successes! To your good health!"

**[END]**

* * *

 

 

 **[1]**  Kondō Isami was originally Miyagawa Katsugorō, the youngest son of farmer Miyagawa Hisajirō. This story refers to Kondō's two older brothers, Miyagawa Otojirō/Otogorō and Miyagawa Kumezō/Sōbei. These men did exist, but this story is completely fictional;  _I made up everything but the names and basic facts (e.g., location)._

 **[2]** Good night.

 **[3]** In fact, Saitō and Yamazaki knew that true black tends to stand out against shadows, and so on, and will often provide an undesirable outline instead of concealment. Consequently, their clothes were made up of dark greens and greys, which are actually far more effective for camouflage in dark surroundings. Black isn't bad in a pinch, but it isn't the best.

 


End file.
